


How to make an angel

by LittleSpider



Series: Daisy's first Nativity [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Daisy Unwin - Freeform, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Harry Hart, Drabble, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Harry Hart Lives, Harry and Daisy, M/M, Oneshot, Parental figure harry hart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider/pseuds/LittleSpider
Summary: When Harry greets a sobbing Daisy at the School gates at home time, he plans a course of action.He didn't realise it would involve a needle and thread





	

 

Harry Hart had felt heartbreak several times in his life.

When his infant sister had died.

When his first serious love interest had broken off with him.

When his mentor, Lancelot the former, had passed away on a mission.

When Lee Unwin had died for him leaving a young widow and young son.

When he had stepped out of a Kentucky church into blazing son with the blood of forty people on his hands to face a bullet of his own.

But this heartbreak was brand new.

And it was in the tearful face of Eggsy's infant sister.

She stood pigeon toed in her black patent buckled shoes, in her school uniform, her bag trailing behind her on the muddy asphalt of the playground as she walked, rubbing her red cheeks with the back of her hand trying not to cry as her joyful peers ran behind her.

At once Harry followed his heart into free-fall and dropped to his knees.

“Daisy, daisy, what's wrong?” he asked softly, opening his arms and welcoming her into the woollen softness of his winter coat.

She did not rush into them, but slowly shuffled to him.

He wrapped her in an embrace and pressed a soft kiss to her blonde hair.

“Daisy darling, tell me what's wrong? What's upset you so?”

She sniffed a few times.

“...We're doin' a nativity, Hawwy.”

Harry felt trepidation. This was usually a good thing...yes?

“...Yes?” he prompted, his tone matching hers in empathy.

“And they said we need costumes.”

“...Yes?” he continued, waiting for the problem to reveal itself.

“...And I'm an angel.”

“...Yes?” Harry continued.

She sniffed again as her face screwed up.

“And they said they need our mummies to make them!” she wailed.

At once Harry knew the problem and wrapped her in his embrace again as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“...My...My...” she huffed. “...My mummy can't make...a costume...because she's...she's...in hospital!”

Harry nodded and shushed her softly, cuddling her into his chest.

Michelle Unwin had been in hospital for a while, first to break her addiction to the drugs that came with leaving with the most prolific dealer on the Alexandra Estate and then to mentally recover from several years of emotional and physical abuse.

She was making great strives, but at the same time, missed out on a lot of Daisy's formative steps including her first Nativity.

Harry heard his driver step forwards behind him and he raised a hand to placate him.

He pulled his hanky from his pocket.

“Alright...” he began softly, wiping her face. “...It's alright darling.” he soothed as she sniffed and looked at him with a runny red nose and swollen eyes.

“...Listen, lets go home. We'll pick up MacDonald's on the way. And we'll see what we can do?”

She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Harry still hadn't quite encouraged her to use her hanky yet.

“...I know, I'm not quite as good with a needle and thread as your mummy, but I think I can make you an angel costume.”

It was like choosing which wire to cut. But here and now, in the chill of a Mid November day, with the daylight running out and his driver having a panic about the current 'Head Tailor' being in the open with Galahad's infant sister, it was a choice he had to make to get her to comply.

She sniffed and then to Harry's relief, she nodded.

Harry let his face break into a smile and he scooped her up, carrying her back to the car.

 

 

*

 

“...Hawwy?”

“Yes, papillon?”

“Aren't you a tailor?”

“Yes, papillon.”

“...so why you sayin' you ain't as good as my mummy at sewin' if you sew for a job?”

Harry looked up at Daisy who had been stood on his footstool in his drawing room for the last hour as Harry fitted her for a white smock that he hoped would look as good as the YouTube and 'how to' tutorials he had seen.

“...Because she's your mummy.” he replied, pinning the hem of the grown in place as he knelt at Daisy's feet. “And I think that you feel your mummy is probably the best at doing anything for you.”

Daisy looked at Harry's fireplace thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but if you and Eggsy do it for a job, you must be good at it.”

Harry smiled up at her and continued to pin the hem into place.

“Perhaps. I think your brother is perhaps a little better at it.” he replied. “...I'm a bit older than he is and he's got a much steadier hand.”

Since the incident in Kentucky, Harry had been left with an irregular palsy in his right hand that sometimes prevented him from doing all he had before hand, including being able to sew straight and shoot a gun without using his other hand to support it.

“Yeah, but you can just teach him what you know, yeah?” she asked, looking down at him.

“I suppose so, Daisy.” he replied, pinning another section of the hem and checking the width of it.

“Hawwy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“What's a 'Verging Mary'?”

Harry paused for a moment as he processed what she had asked.

“...Sorry?”

“Verging Mary.” she replied. “What is it?”

Harry had been raised a Catholic, albeit his faith had been lost after Elizabeth's death. But how could he explain the concept of a virgin birth to a young child without going into the complexities of faith and biology?

“... 'The Virgin Mary'.” he began after a pause that was far too long for an inquisitive child. “Was the mother of Baby Jesus.”

“Oh.”

Harry prayed to a God he had not been on speaking terms with for almost thirty years that this was the end of it.

“...why do they call her virgin Mary?”

_Oh Christ._

“Daisy? Who is the Virgin Mary in your play?” he asked, reaching for some more pins.

“Fiona.” Daisy began in a less than impressed tone.

Harry did not miss it.

“Fiona?” he asked. “Is that the young girl whose mother is a weather lady on television?”

“Yeah.” Daisy replied stubbornly.

Harry felt a stab of amusement. Her tone and the way she held her posture was very reminiscent of Eggsy.

“Well, I think you'll make a perfect angel.” Harry replied, finishing off the hem and kneeling back to inspect it.

Daisy looked down at the simple smock and looked at Harry dubiously. It did not look like an angels gown.

“...It'll have bell sleeves, and wings, and a halo when I'm done.” he promised. “And the hem will be all sewn up and you'll look splendid.”

Her face split into a grand smile and she jumped off the foot-stool and into Harry's arms.

Harry caught her and smiled as she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you Hawwy!” she cheered. “I'm gonna look like the bestest angel in the whole play!”

Harry smiled and began to pull the smock off of her carefully, ensuring the pins didn't graze her.

“My pleasure. Now go and get ready for your bath.” he began. “I'll be up shortly. Your brother will be home soon and then we can have dinner.”

Daisy ran upstairs as JB who had been sitting patiently watching them both ran after her, wagging his stubby curl of a tail leaving Harry to carefully fold the smock, wondering if they had a tailors dummy that he could use for this project.

 

*

Eggsy didn't get in until 11pm after being held behind at HQ to go over a mission report.

He dumped his bag at the door and walked in, pulling the knot of his tie down and popping the button on his shirt.

“You wouldn't fuckin' believe it, Harry.” he began, walking in and going for the drinks cabinet. “Merlin made me re-write my report because I drew a diagram of how I escaped apparently it 'ain't appropri'--...Harry, what you doin'?”

Harry was sat on the floor, surrounded by paper plates that were in various stages of being cut out, with his laptop playing a video on how to make wings.

“...Your sister is an angel. And I'm making her wings.” he said absently as he glued some white cloth to the card template of a feather.

Eggsy wondered if thirty odd years of service as a Kingsman agent had finally got to Harry but he remembered, Daisy was auditioning for the Nativity today.

Relief flooded his system as he knocked back the single measure of Whiskey and he knelt beside his fiancé.

“...Hey.”

Harry looked up.

“...You're aces, you know that?” he smiled.

“If you think so, dear boy.” Harry murmured, pressing his lips to Eggsy's.

Eggsy ran his fingers through hair's hair, over the thick scar that split Harry's scalp before breaking the kiss and murmuring against his lips.

“I know so, Harry. Though...” he said as he pulled away and Harry brushed some dust from Eggsy's lapel. “I am desperate for somethin' to eat, and I would like a nice hot shower with someone who's gonna wash my back, you reckon you're as good a back washer as you are a tailor?”

Harry put down the PVA glue and brushed off his tailored trousers that now had shavings of cardboard clinging to them and got up.

“...I think I am.” he replied with a smirk.

“Let's see shall we?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> A Prelude to 'Daisy's First Nativity': http://archiveofourown.org/works/7750957
> 
>  


End file.
